Bloom in Barren Land
by Twisted Trans-Sister
Summary: She awakes, shocked by the realm of chaos that is now the Earth. But with the help of the stichpunks, she may be the key to reawakening humanity.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: She awakes, shocked by the realm of chaos that is now the Earth. But with the help of the stichpunks, she may be the key to reawakening humanity.

Author's Note: Can you all guess what I'm obsessed with now? _ This was rattling in my head ever since I watched 9. I LOVED IT I SAY. I was so happy that the twins survived, but so sad that 2 and 6 passed on. Now there's only four....well...four and a human now. Enjoy!

PS- I'll be watching Alice in Wonderland this Friday so I'll update Walking Backwards once the weekend's over. I'm staying with my sister!

____

_I was dreaming. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep, but I was enjoying myself so I guess it doesn't matter._

_I was laying on the picnic blanket, softened by the warm, sweet smelling grass in that field behind our house, wildflowers blooming in the warmth of the summer air. Clouds rolled over my head and I day dreamed them as flying castles and angels, in a drowsy, comfortable spur of imagination. My baby brother Frans, already a toddler with fair hair and chubby, active legs, was waddling around chasing butterflies and pulling up flowers in his usual eager fashion. Grandpa, despite his wish to spend more time with us, was studying and writing in his books, his nose deep in a mechanics manual and bony hands stained with ink from his pen. His discomfort rustled sympathy from me, and I picked up the squealing Frans and set him in my lap._

_"Grandpa," I said in worry, "Must you **really** be pushing yourself so much? Mama always worries about you, you know. She says all this studying and lab work will be the death of you."_

_The old man sighed, closing his books shut for the moment. He took Frans from me, ruffling his soft head of hair. "**Gwampa**," Frans cooed in delight, reaching up to grab his fingers. He smiled...Frans' innocence and happiness always had such a charming effect. He situated the little boy in his lap looking out at the peace and beauty of the field._

_"Perhaps," he said with a forlorn sigh, "But your father doesn't make enough as a soldier, and your dear mother has her hands full at home. I must take care of you."_

_"You need to take care of yourself," I insisted, "We've got our whole lives ahead of us...but you're not the young man you used to be. Besides," I said proudly, "I've taken over **all** the cooking and cleaning at home now, so Mama can have more time to work with the laundering. Frans is learning to collect eggs from the hen house and bring in firewood too. Aren't you darling?" I said, picking up Frans and nuzzling him in the face, making him laugh. I turned solemn however, when I turned back to Grandpa. "But it's so unhealthy...all those dark hours in the lab..."_

_"I'll be alright." he reassured, patting my hand with his worn, but comforting, hands. "There's life in this old tiger yet. But I'll talk to the Chancellor, see if I can't pull a few strings."_

_Then he drew me and Frans into a warm hug. It was one of the things Grandpa did best, and Frans sighed in joy as he wrapped his little arms around him as much as he could. I hugged back too, delighting in the safety and comfort of our dear grandfather's embrace, the warmth of the sun in my hair, the sweet scent of grass and flowers, and the sounds of the wind rustling in the trees spotting the field._

_"Adele," he sighs, "My dear granddaughter..."_

_Tomorrow he would be gone. But today there was the promise of a perfect summer afternoon._

_____

In the real world, no wildflowers bloomed. The sun barely peeked out from the dusty clouds, dry grass falling apart in the remants of the field. Everywhere, skeletons and machines lay still, time having worn them useless. Nothing lives anymore.

Nothing....save for the stichpunks.

The four trekked across the barren wasteland. In their quest to revive life, they'd been collecting anything that could live on its own...no machines, but plants, insects, and maybe even animals. They'd had bad luck...the toxic gasses had consumed most of life on Earth, curdling plants into dry, dead compost. The bones of the humans were growing worn and yellowed where they lied, the machines that had destroyed them now rusting away to nothingness. But they'd had some sucess. At the abandoned library they had collected a small family of roaches, a small composition of weeds, a colony of tiny wriggling krill, and amazingly a daisy, small, but blooming. There process was slow, but it was a process.

But now it was time for an investigation. While out searching with his twin, 4 had found the entrance to an abandoned lab, and judging from the comparisons to what was seen in a copy of a newpaper, it was a biological reasearch facility. The glass door was smashed, most likely from the fierce storms that plagued the land, and most of it was underground, the dark hallways still tinged with the lingering scent of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners. The rooms were mostly filled with offices, petri dishes broken and all the reasearch scattered and useless.

However, what attracted the attention of the twins, was the strange iron door at the very end of the hall, and the eerie florescent glow coming from a ventilation shaft. It prompted a proper investigation, 9 and 7 following with packs of matches, scapels, and lights to look into what exactly was going on in the dark, underground labs. He'd given the twins a pair of bells should they be forced to split up...the pair's extrodinary eyes prevented them from being compatible with voiceboxes. The bells would send out a warning, should they encounter a rare danger.

Danger had fortunately become more scarce now...ever since the Brain had been destroyed, the flow of vicious machines had halted, and as the monsters slowly ran out of energy, they ceased to move. The few dangers they encountered now were wind-storms, collapsing buildings, and a few mines scattered across the land, untriggered and waiting for one of them to take a false step.

"Maybe we'll find some more samples here," 9 looked hopefully at the lab. "Show us where you found the vent."

The twins hurried along, 9 and 7 following quickly behind them with a light. They crowded in front of a ventilation shaft, the top grate already rusted off. As the stichpunks looked below, they indeed saw a lime green glow, pouring in through the shaft were a chill wind blew up in their faces, a disused fan blade spinning slowly as the wind from below blew up. Finding a spare extension cord in an abandoned janitor's closet, 7 unfurled the cord until the gentle 'clink' of the metal plug hit the bottom of the shaft. One by one, they climbed down. 3 and 4 halted the fan blade as 7 and 9 worked on unscrewing the grate through the thin openings. The grate finally gave in with a loud 'clang' on the floor.

What they saw exceeded their hopes of samples.

There were hundreds upon thousands of tanks...not filled with liquid, but creatures recognizeable only by what they'd seen in the library books. The chill came from the cryogenic freeze that captured the beings inside as perfect as they were the day they began this long cold sleep. Below, each had dusty nameplates, their species, names, blood type, etc. The stichpunks could only gaze in amazement, the twins eagerly cataloging as fast as they could, scanning through the tubes.

"There must be creatures from nearly every species in here," said 9 in awe, running a hand against the icy cold glass. 7 tried to open one, but it remained firmly shut. She finally gave up upon noticing a lock on the door of the tube.

"But they're all locked," she said in disapointment. "It doesn't do us much good if we can't-"

7 stopped abruptly. The clicking sounds of 3 and 4's cataloging had faded away. 9 quickly caught on, and looked extremely worried.

"Where's 3 and 4?"

_______

_"**Monsters**!"_

_I tried to rouse myself, but my arms and legs couldn't move. I was barely able to lift my eyelids, lips parted in attempt to draw a breath. A dribble of blood was trickling from a tiny prick on my arm, a needle lying discarded on the ground. I could barely see the shadows of people fighting in the hallway, and I heard the clear, angry voice of my mother._

_"You can't do this! She's only 17 for godsakes!"_

_"There's nothing else we can do! If you care for the welfare for your daughter I suggest you stop this instant-"_

_"And what about my son?! He's barely four!" she screamed. I could see her tiny, but commanding, form pounding on the chest of a man from the door. I felt numb and frigid, the breath coming from my mouth a visible vapor. I heard the sounds of the bombs rattle the shelter outside. The shouting grew more desperate._

_"Call my father! Her grandfather Johannes...he'd object!"_

_"Dr. Jan is a traitor." a new voice interjected coldly. I felt a shiver pass down my spine as the effects of the drug combined with the terrifying tone of the man. "He's allowed these abominations to roam free, killing every man, woman, and child."_

_"Shut up!" screeched my mother, "You weren't so objective when you asked for those monsters to be built!"_

_There was a bang and a hard thump. One shadow, the shadow of a petite woman with short, wavy hair, now laid on the floor. Not even the strongest novacaine could hold back the rattling moan of horror, my eyes widened as I saw the figure of my dear, sweet mother lying forever still on the ground. The room was suddenly filled with people. Another sting indicated that I'd been injected again._

_"Take her to the storage," instructed the man, muttering apprehensively. I saw the flash of fire and the stench of smoke from the window. Cries from the suffering people echoed like a gong. I was picked up, the itchy material of a soldier's uniform scratching at my leaden arms. I felt hot tears rolling down my face, praying that poor little Frans, who was so small and innocent, would be alright, and that Papa, out there in the burning city, would come back safe._

_"**Life must go on**..."_

________

3 and 4 had wandered away, cataloging everything they laid their eyes on. But now they trembled anxiously, gripping the handles of their rusty scapels should one of the species decide they looked good enough to eat. But as they continued, things grew messier, with piles of clothes, food cans, supplies left scattered, as if they'd been left there in a haste escape. The pods looked cleaner too; they could see the faces more clearly. One held a pair of cats, curled up next to each other as if sleeping. Another held a doe and bambi deer. Finally, the length of creatures stopped at one last container.

It was by far the most recent. Even though it must have been over ten or maybe twenty years, the tank was fairly clear. Inside, a human laid propped up, head tilted slightly. It was a young woman, maybe 17. A dark sheet of hair had fallen a little over her face, peaceful in sleep. An oxygen mask covered her mouth, faint puffs of breath fogging it up, before fading. But what was miraculous about the tank, was the key; still stuck in the keyhole.

The twins followed their curious streak, climbing up the vent by the tube, before balancing on each other's shoulders. As 3 tried to keep his twin on his shoulders, 4 grasped at the key, turning it the other way. The lock finally made an audible 'click', and the twins were blown back by the compressed air blowing them back to the floor. There was a groan from inside, and the girl fell down, barely able to catch herself with her arms as she laid wobbling from the awakening. The oxygen mask had snapped off her face, and hung swinging from the tube.

Very slowly, she opened her eyes.

_____

I'd woken up, in someplace freezing cold. But just as the thought came to my chilled mind, a hot burst of heat eradicated the chill. The hiss of escaped air came forward, and I found myself falling forward! Panic took back some control of my limbs and I was able to halt the fall with my arms, saving myself a very painful concussion. My clothes were worn thin from the ice, but they were the same coat and dress I'd worn before going to sleep. The laces on my boots had shriveled up, brittle and crumbling, but the leather had held out. I wobbled unsteady on my knees as they slowly regained their ability to move. With bleary eyes, I opened myself to my surroundings.

Everything was hazy for a moment, and my eyes ached with effort. But with a few encouraging blinks, things grew clearer. There was the green glow of tubes all around...and before me; amazingly so, there were a pair of twin dolls standing upright before me. A dream perhaps?

"Wh-where...am I?" I rasped out. The little twins leapt back in surprise, holding out a primitive form of spear. No not spear...scapels. Curious...

My arms could move again. I rubbed my eyes, trying to properly gain my bearings. Nothing seemed as it should be. The cold, the tubes, the walking dolls. My dreams...none of them were ever so strange. I took a look at the dolls again.

They were quite small, they could have tickled my shins at their height. Wide lenses served as eyes, their heads covered with little blue hoods. Their hands and feet were sculpted from iron and wood into flexible joints. The rest of them seemed a bit like a beanie doll. On their chests, drawn in ink pen, were the numbers 3 and 4 respectively. 3 seemed a bit shyer than his twin, hiding behind them. Both of them held out their scapels, already beginning to grow encrusted with rust, at me.

Hesitantly, I held out a finger, as if testing. They shrank back, and I took my finger back. A little more gently, I held out my palm.

"Come on," I encouraged softly, getting used to my voice again, "Come on. It's alright." I had experienced such suspicion with little Frans before. Meeting new people for him was usually a slow, difficult procedure. I had to let them come to me first.

Finally, 4 decided to hunch over my fingers, taking it in his tiny hands, eyes flashing. I let him do as he liked, turning it over to show the rest of the peachy skin and fingernails. Boosted by his brother's examination, 3 joined in, and they clicked and flashed over my hands in curiousity...from the even, clean fingernails, to the tiny scar on my wrist from an accident in baby-hood. Feeling a little more secure that they trusted me, I ran a finger gently over their heads, nuzzling the hoods as I would with Frans. Finally, they climbed up into my palm and I let them come up to my face.

"Hello," I said with a smile. They replied with the simple twinkle of their eyes and a series of clicks.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: She awakes, shocked by the realm of chaos that is now the Earth. But with the help of the stichpunks, she may be the key to reawakening humanity.

Author's Note: Thanks a lot for the reviews! I was surprised to find three reviews only one evening after letting this fic out. It's a keeper :D

_____

"Shh...something's there..."

7 slid her helmet back down, the skull of the avian muffling her voice. 9 sensibly turned off his light and pulled out a spare scapel. They were creeping steadily towards the noises. One of them was unmistakibly the sound of the twin's; the clicking taps indicating their usual cataloging. Another was a small...giggle? 9 put an assured hand on the suspicious 7's shoulder. "If they're still cataloging," he whispered, "Then they probably just found something."

"But...all the other stitchpunks..."

"I know," 9 said solemnly, "But we can still see."

But with a glance out from their hiding spot, they saw something far more extrodinary.

3 and 4 were on the shoulders of a human...whom could only be called a giantess compared to the stitchpunks. One of the pods had been opened, the key still in the lock, and the dust had been disturbed. The human was obviously quite young...just into womanhood, and was giggling because 3 and 4's exploration had made it to her ears...and their little hands were tickling the sensitive lobes. She snickered and jerked as they rustled underneath her hair, still clicking away like beetles. 9 stepped out from behind the pod.

"3! 4!" he called. He'd caught the human's attention as well, the twins coming out from her curtain of hair. The human's eyes twinkled with fascination.

"More of you! And you talk!" she said in utter delight, "Well when I find Frans he'll be absolutely thrilled-"

"Wait-" 7 intruded, following 9. The twins had receded behind their friends in their usual shy manner. "You never told us what this is all about. Who are you? And how, or why, did you get here?" The young woman looked back in puzzlement.

"I...I was hoping you all were here to tell me..." she stumbled slightly as she spoke, "I was sedated by these men, and the next thing I know I'm awake. Where is everyone else?"

"Else?" 9 echoed back.

"The...the other humans. Didn't they ask you to wake me up?" The four looked uneasily at each other. "Ma'am," 7 said in confusion, "We found you...by mistake really. There are no other humans."

The silence was a choked one, the woman looking like she'd been slapped. Her white was going pale with horror, and she stood up quickly, looking over the contents of the pods. "But there must be more of us!" she said in panic. "We were supposed to sleep until they'd taken out the machines! There was supposed be more of us!" She turned back, eyes wild with worry and terror. She fell to her knees, looking at the stichpunks straight in the eyes. They stepped back in fright, she looked positively livid with fear.

"Please! You have to tell me! What happened to my little brother? Or Grandpa? Or anyone?!"

"There isn't anyone!" 9 said back, voice raised and staff put protectively in front of him, "There's only you!"

The woman was teary-eyed and woeful at this proclamation. With tears bowling over, she sunk back and began to cry, completely overcome with a crushing loneliness. "Dear sweet Frans..." she moaned, "How...how awful..." The twins, compelled to comfort her, scurried forward and patted her gently on the sides. She took her hands from her face, wiping off the hot tears from her blotchy face as she sniffled. "I'm sorry..." she muttered, drawing her knees up to her chin, her skirts pooling around her, "I should have guessed that the machines would have been so destructive."

"It's not your fault," 9 said reassuringly. He and 7 joined the twins around the giant woman, craning their necks up. "They're all gone now. There's just us."

"But...but what are you?"

"Stitchpunks," 7 explained, "Or at least that's the proper name for us. We were made by a scientist to preserve humanity, and to start things anew once the machines fell apart."

"We're all corresponded by our numbers," 9 continued, he and 7 turning around to show their numbers, "I'm 9, she's 7. And you've already met 3 and 4." The twins stepped forward, 4 snapping in attention as his eyes flashed onto the side of a discarded trunk to play a recording. The black and white motion picture rolled, revealing the Chancellor in his Rolls Royce, waving to a crowd as the announcer blared in the background. The woman pointed at him.

"I know him!" she declared, "My Grandpa used to work for him! He's the one who had those...things...built..."

The picture continued to reveal the news strip of the BRAIN's creation. The woman waved her hands, "Wait, wait! Pause for a second!" 4 complied, stopping at the picture. The woman leaned in, not believing her eyes. "That's....that's Grandpa..." she stuttered in disbelief.

"He's the one who made us," 9 said, "He made the BRAIN too..."

"Not of his own violation..." the woman sighed, and 4 let the film continue. Each passing picture made the woman flinch and grit her teeth in horror, most likely reliving some painful memories. She squeezed her eyes shut as the news paper flickered onto her Grandpa a second time, betrayed by the lies of the Chancellor. The Chancellor's voice taunted her from the film, and she tightened her fist, wanting so bad to punch something. Finally, it ended when 4 fell back from the effort into 3's expecting arms. The stitchpunks looked at the woman.

"My Grandpa..." she said in a quiet voice, "Was always working to keep humanity moving forward. Even when he ought to have relaxed...he kept on going." She shook her head for a moment, ridding herself of the pain. "But please excuse me. My name is Adele Hauven. My Grandpa was Johannes Hauven...the scientist who made you." 9 looked guiltily up at Adele.

"I'm sorry to say that he...he died." But Adele merely nodded in understanding.

"He was very old." she sighed, "And was always working. Mother always said his work would be the death of him."

"We, and I mean to say all of us," 9 gestured to the rest of the stichpunks, huddled together, "He made us by splitting up parts of his soul." 9 fell silent for a moment, "I'm the last one."

"Where...where are the others?" Adele dared to ask. 7 looked pained to answer it.

"Not all of the stitchpunks survived." she said bitterly, "Some of them died in an attempt to stop the BRAIN. We were successful in the end...but...they're gone." Adele bowed her head respectfully.

"My condolences," she said, "But," she lightened up, "I'm not alone. None of us are now. Four stitchpunks and one girl can prove to be better than nothing right?"

"Right," 9 agreed, "But how are we going to open all of these pods?" Adele looked a bit stumped by that question. Then, with a curious look at her own pod, she stood up, wobbling slightly as she readjusted herself to the sensation of standing and walking. The leather flaps of her boots were splayed open, flopping slightly as she walked over and pulled out the key to her pod with a small yank. The key was old, and slightly rusty, but came out clean. Trying it on a pod with cats, she stuck it in, but it refused to go in.

"It looks like they've all got specific ones," she said, distraught. "But where are the keys?"

"We didn't see any on the way in," 7 said, clearly upset. The twins gave her a dual pat on the shoulder in comfort. Adele then felt a growling ache in her stomach. She clutched her belly gently, wincing.

"They might have taken care of total starvation while I was asleep," she said, "But it really comes back full force when you wake up."

____

Later, after prying off a very stubborn door, Adele tumbled out of the pod room, making sure to secure the door behind her. Who knows what might come down there and disturb all those poor things. Pulling a spare scarf around her face a little tighter in the chill air, she followed her new companions out into the open, bracing herself for what might come. _It'll be alright_, she said to herself silently, _Grandpa said so. He said that once everything was over the Earth would be as it was once again_...

But he was wrong.

Adele couldn't hold back her gasp as she looked out into the barren emptiness of what was once a city. Buildings and bodies alike laid strewn across the land, man and machine laid defeated on the dusty ground. The sun barely peeked through dusty clouds, a result of destruction to irrigation. Adele had to hold herself against the doorway of the building in her horror, looking utterly defeated. The stitchpunks were immediately alert, carefully taking her hand in worry.

"Wh-what's wrong?" asked 9 nervously. Adele sighed, and slumped against the wall.

"It wasn't supposed to be this bad," she said, shaking her head, "Grandpa promised it. He said that once everything was over there'd be peace again. But..." She looked out onto the endless horizon.

"There isn't even anything out there to be peaceful with..."

____

_With the strange, orderly discord going on outside, Adele tried to keep calm as she packed up a few more belongings into her carpetbag. But inside, like so many of the people outside, she was wracked with terror._

_The league of robot drones were fast approaching the city, and army trucks were urging residents to climb aboard with only one piece of luggage for the road. Downstairs Adele could hear the whimpering cries of Frans, who was confused and frightened by the rumbling sounds of distant bombs. Looking around her room, Adele searched frantically for anything she had missed. She then saw it, pausing slightly in reminicense._

_It was a small doll, and an old one, made messily from an old pillow case, stuffed with cotton with little wooden carved arms, hands, and feet. A smiling face had been forever painted on it, the paint only slightly crackled from age. She picked it up carefully. It had been a gift from her precious grandfather from when she was five years old, during an economic depression. Only a rare few rich young girls could afford dolls, while Adele had to play with merely sticks, rocks, and dirt. Her grandfather, sensing her loneliness at that age, did what he could, and gave her Zero. It hadn't been the best work, and Adele was only slightly let down when forced to compare the cotton rag doll to the beautiful porcelain china dolls the other girls had. But she had treasured it, even after she grew too old to play with it, handing it down to Frans. But Frans showed different interests...and so for so long it stood as a sentiniel to her bedroom._

_"Adele! For godsakes **hurry**!"_

_Not hesitating any longer, she picked Zero up and put him gently into her bag before closing it shut with a snap. She rushed down the steps and clambered into the military van, hushing the crying Frans as they bumped to her grandfather's house. As soon as it jutted to a halt, she saw him approach the steps, hands empty of luggage._

_"Grandpa!" she cried out from the noise around her, "Hurry! Where are your things?"_

_"I...I can't come my dear..." he huffed. His fingers were slightly pricked, as if by needles. In his pocket a spool of thread poked out, and various other things as well; burlap, optic wires, a zipper. "I'm terribly sorry-"_

_"**Why**?" Adele cried, sticking her head and arm out the window to clutch at his shoulder. "You can't seriously be thinking of staying **here**?! It's too dangerous! The machines-"_

_"Yes I know my dear," he patted her hand gently, "But I have one last project to finish, and then everything will be fine."_

_"It'll be fine once you get in here!" Adele protested. "Please, Grandpa!"_

_He looked pained, as if her words had struck a blow hard into his chest. The cries of Frans had escalating into near shrieks, and the sobs of Adele's mother could be heard. Adele couldn't help wishing for her father to be here. He could get him to come in..._

_"I'm sorry," he apologized once more, taking Adele's hand in both his own, "But I promise...once everything is over, the world will be as it should be. Peaceful and whole, once again."_

_"You promise?" she whispered, afraid of a worse fate._

_"I promise."_

_The truck pulled away, the driver seeing that her grandfather was staying behind. Adele's hand slipped out of his worn, wrinkled one, but Adele looked back, head still out the window. Her grandfather watched, heart wrenching as her tears began to flow while she shouted back. "You have to come back! Remember? **You have to come back**!"_

_Eventually she was pulled back inside by her mother, and the family of three now wept together in the truck as it bumped along the road. From the windows of the beloved scientist's house, a group of small beings watched the parting in silence..._

____

"-le? Adele? Adele!"

She snapped back to the real world with a bump as she snapped out of her stupor. 9 and 7 had been shaking her furiously while 3 and 4 waved their little hands in front of her eyes. She shook her head, standing up with the twins on her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" 9 asked in slight panic, "You just phased out there for a second."

"It's nothing..." Adele said, looking out once again onto the barren land. The memory of falling bombs and screaming children still seemed to echo over it. "I was merely reminded of something..."


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: She awakes, shocked by the realm of chaos that is now the Earth. But with the help of the stichpunks, she may be the key to reawakening humanity.

Author's Note: **Ahh mah gawd**. I never realized how popular this fic was until I was hurtled by reviews only a few days after ;_; But I'll try to keep updates steady!

_____

The library was disappointing for Adele to see. She should have seen the brunt of it when she first emerged the labs, but this was too tragic for words.

"This is madness," Adele shook her head in disappointment, "What kind of monsters would destroy such a place?"

"We'll be safer here," 9 said hesitantly, not meaning to avoid the topic, "There aren't as many monsters around but if there are any, they won't get in."

7 made a much more gentle approach. "Did you like the library a lot before the wars?"

"Very much," she said, looking around. Many of the statues were still intact, but many more windows were smashed through, doors ripped off their hinges and books scattered everywhere. There were cracked tiles below her feet, the former pattern barely visible, "My Grandpa made many contributions here. We also had a great uncle who was a sculptor, he made all the statues here." she gestured to the still faced muses circling the building, "Grandpa brought me here when I was just a toddler and taught me how to read and write."

"3 and 4 managed to teach us that too," 9 replied, walking through the courtyard with his lamp staff lighting the dark path, "We're learning how to care and cultivate the plants and creatures we find,"

"You found some?" Adele asked eagerly. 9 and 7 looked down sheepishly. The twins had scurried on ahead into the safety of the library, dusting off pages and flashing as they kept cataloging.

"They're...not very impressive," 9 admitted bashfully, "We've got a little bowl of krill, these little red things like fish you know? And then they're some cockroaches-"

"They're actually kind of creepy," 7 shuddered, "They crawl around really weird-like-"

"I know," Adele said with an equal purse of the mouth in disgust, "We considered them pests before...but I guess we can't discriminate when it comes to the regeneration of life."

"We also found some dandelions...and a daisy."

"A daisy..." Adele murmured, remembering wind-swept fields that were positively speckled with them. "It used to be that you could go blind with the sight of all the daisies in the world...but I don't think I've ever been happier to know there's at least one."

"But we've hit a real find!" 7 encouraged, "Nearly every species in the world are all tucked away in the labs! All we have to do now is wake them up."

"Actually," Adele halted, uneasy, "It may take a while...even if we find the keys."

9 and 7 were flabbergasted. "What?" 9 gaped, "Wait? But...this is the repopulating of the world!"

"Exactly." Adele crouched down in the middle of the courtyard in front of the two stitchpunks, "And just look what they'll have to live with. There's barely anything green for herbivores to eat...and we have to let them populate at their own pace before letting carnivores roam free." Adele ran her hands through a patch of dirt in a missing tile, letting it sift through her fingers. It was dusty and desolate...almost like sand.

"The world...if I can charter a guess, is too sick to care for a large population that we're going for. We have to nurse it back, make things green again, before going on."

9 and 7 looked at each other in disbelief...but Adele had an excellent point. The stitchpunks had to dig deep down into the ground just to find suitable dirt to grow their plants in, and it was hard searching for water for the krill and reguvenating the plants. But with their goal set, they couldn't help it...they wanted the earth green again and soon.

"I'm...I'm sorry," apologized Adele, head bowed as she bit her lower lip in regret, "I know I shouldn't sound so harsh-"

"No...no it's fine." 9 halted her talk, "We...we just went through a lot to get as far as we've gotten. We're just eager is all."

At this time, the twins were scurrying along the path, tugging on the hem of Adele's skirts as their eyes flashed. They were oblivious to the conversation and were smiling, causing Adele to smile back.

"Hmm? Yes alright we're coming." She stood up and followed the twins quickly inside. There were chains of lights from Christmas tree decorations lighting up the place, books still strewn all over. But in it's own sheltered spot, one simple leather tome laid in its own tidy spot. The twins kept blinking from Adele to the book. Adele smiled curiously. "A present?" she asked, pointing at the book. They nodded. Adele smiled even wider as she gently picked up the leather book, untying the leather straps. She saw the name on the inside cover, putting a hand to her mouth in shock.

"This...this is one of my Grandpa's journals..."

"One? How many were there?" 7 asked, climbing over Adele's crossed legs to get a better look.

"Many," Adele traced the old inked name Johannes Hauven with her fingertips, "Several of them for his day to day life, and even more for his research," She looked over the date, "This is one of the oldest...I was only 6 when he was writing in this." Despite the disbelief, she hugged it to her chest, looking at the twins with true gratitude, "You really, really can't imagine what this means to me."

The twins merely flickered their lenses in a simple fashion, before clambering up with 7 onto Adele's lap. 9 climbed on too, and Adele opened the journal to the last page. Before reading it aloud, 9 intervened.

"Why are you reading the last page first?"

"It's a habit," Adele shrugged. "I've read lots of literary journals before and I like the mystery behind learning from present to past."

She began to read...the last page dated July 13th, 1941. She couldn't help but smile at the familiar, tidy handwriting of her grandfather as she read;

_"Tonight heralds a special occasion."_ she started out loud, _"As my son-in-law Albert has finally decided to serve our country properly by enlisting himself in the army. He leaves for basic training tomorrow morning and we just had a celebratory party tonight. Helen, despite her previous distress over such a hazardous occupation, could not help beaming over the sight of her husband in uniform. Even Adele, only seven years old, seems happy with her father. The family had all congregated, as well as some family friends."_

"Helen and Albert," 7 mused at the pages, "Were those your parents?"

"Yes," Adele nodded, "My mother was Grandpa's daughter, and she ran her own laundering business. Papa used to work with horses, but decided to join the army so he might serve a better cause."

_"Young Adele,"_ she continued, _"Has barely let go of Zero the entire evening. I know Zero wasn't my best work, its been a while since I've taken up the old toy-making habit. But Adele has been thrilled to have him; constantly swinging him about and playing with him. It's such a relief to see her with something like company...she's yet to go to school and its unhealthy for young girls to be so lonely. That may very well change when she attends school for the first time this fall semester. I managed to convince Helen to let me help with the fees; to be blunt, a laundress doesn't make as much money in this world anymore, and in anycase the school fees for the girl's academy can be quite costly. I don't mind it at all, I have too much of it from my old days and it makes me happy to see it put to good use."_

"Who's Zero?" 9 asked.

"My doll," Adele said, turning the page. "He looks a bit like you all, only..." she trailed off, "Well he's different."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know," whispered Adele softly. Her eyes looked distant in memory, "I don't know where he went after I was put away."

_"I am surprised to see yet another journal filled with memories." _The journal kept on...the last page somewhat damaged from age, _"The days pass me by so quickly that it seems like yesterday that my Helen was married and bearing Adele. Only my record of journals tell me how long it's truly been. Yet the memories stay strong in my mind as I write. Soon I shall be joining my colleagues at the university as a professor, though they still joke about my former profession now and again. After all...how many toymakers become scientists?"_

"The end," Adele finished, snapping the book shut with a smile. 3 and 4 however, tugged on dress, silently pleading for another entry reading. "No more tonight...we need to save some for another day." She yawned as the stitchpunks scrambled off her, leaning into a corner of the library. The floor was smothered with books, but she was so tired that they could have been laced with spikes and she'd think them clouds.

"Good night," she said sleepily, closing her eyes. She felt the scuttling of the twins, their clicking flashes, and then no more. It wasn't until she entered a true slumber did she feel them cuddling into the side of her chest, listening quietly to the foreign sound of a beating heart.

____

"Do you think she's capable?" 7 asked 9, as they stood guard at the entrance. "Adele I mean."

9 was quiet. He'd been a leader for such a short time, maybe three months. Adele was a foreign concept to him...he'd never seen humans while they were alive, and even the state of their existence couldn't compare with knowing a real, living breathing human. It would be a challenge.

"I'm still not sure," he replied hesitantly, "She lacks experience...but just look at her. She'd never expected the world to be like it is now."

"Still, I'm worried," 7 said, keeping her helmet above her lenses, "Humans don't exactly have the advantages we do. In comparison to us...they can die with a single misstep. What if we wake up tomorrow and see that she's gotten herself killed? We can't open all those pods by ourselves very easily."

"We've just got to trust her for now," 9 decided, "She trusts us...and let's not forget that she's the Creator's granddaughter. All it takes is for us to point her in the right direction."

7 remained silent. The moon glowed wide and bright in the night, stars unseen behind the thick clouds. They grew grayer and clearer everyday...the rains coming in more often now. With the threat of the Fabrication Machine gone, life was slowly coming back on its own. It made 7 think more clearly on the matter.

"But what about what the humans have done?" 7 finally said. A heavy weight seemed to grow on 9's shoulders at the statement, "They made those machines...the gases and the bombs. They killed themselves off. What do we do if they just do it all over again?"

"Adele..." 9 stuttered slightly, shaking his head, "Adele is different. She's seen the brunt of it, and it must have torn her apart to see her world destroyed like this. She won't be one to ignore the past and repeat her mistakes."

"But what if you're wrong?"

9 flinched inwardly. He couldn't help remembering saying the same thing to 5 when he struggled on his descion to save 2. And how'd his plan end? Disaster. 2 dead, the Fabrication Machine on the rampage, and the eventual cost of some of his dearest friends. What if he was wrong? What if Adele wasn't as she seemed...and was only conniving for a chance at world conquest as the Chancellor had?

"We have to try."

Adele was different. She'd expressed concern and panic for the wellbeing of the world, for her family and for humans she may not have even known. Her heart had broken at the news of her grandfather's death...and even without knowing the entire history of the stitchpunks, she'd decided to trust them. She slept peacefully now...not because she felt the stitchpunks were beneath her in power. She trusted them.

"She decided to trust us first. We have to learn to trust her in return..."

____

That's all folks! Tune in next time for when Adele seeks out her grandfather's lab, and experiences dreams that may bring back lost friends.


End file.
